


The heartache and a thousand natural shocks

by CrimsonRiver808



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRiver808/pseuds/CrimsonRiver808
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They cling to each other, in a silent TARDIS drifting through space, as the moments tick by. </p><p>[Warning: Spoilers for 'The Angels Take Manhattan']</p>
            </blockquote>





	The heartache and a thousand natural shocks

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've written a Doctor Who fic, and the most recent episode 'The Angels Take Manhattan' inspired me to write something. This is an extended version of the final River/Eleven scene in the episode. Story title from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do I claim that I own it. This is just for fun and non-profitable purposes.

The TARDIS hums quietly in the background, almost as if she knows something’s wrong. Which, River suspects, she probably does. River sighs and walks solemnly around the console; flicking switches and pulling leavers as she keeps her head down.

She tries her best to ignore the increasing pang and the ache in her chest, as she bites back the tears that threaten her. She has to be strong - for his sake, if not her own.

_Never let him see the damage._

She glances up from the console and over to him; quickly and cautiously.

He looks so dejected it nearly breaks her hearts.

He’s sitting on the steps with his hands folded in his lap and a stern but distant expression on his face, as he gazes at the glass floor without blinking. The tears swilling in his eyes sparkle under the TARDIS lights, and she knows she has to tread carefully, because he’s hurt, and he’s angry, and most importantly – he’s _dangerous_.

A part of her wants to go to him and pull her into his arms; rock with him and console him until at least some of the hurt that she knows all too well, is gone – to look after him and be a good girl for once, just like her mother asked.

The other part of her is simply lost and _so_ numb; wanting nothing more than to go to bed alone, close her eyes and let the tears burn as they cascade down her cheeks. She wants to curl into a ball and never have to talk about the events of this day, and just enjoy the freedom of not having to be brave, just for _once_.

But she can’t.

Not _now_ , anyway.

Her husband needs her, and she will _not_ leave him alone, no matter how much it hurts her.

She doesn’t want him to catch her looking, so instead, she silently scolds herself and goes back to fiddling with the scanner.  

The unusual silence between them unnerves her – without their natural banter and shameless flirting, the atmosphere is unsettling – but right now, it’s the least of her worries.

As she taps away at part of a keyboard on the console, the Doctor stirs and looks up at her slowly, and River nearly jumps in surprise when he _finally_ breaks the uncomfortable silence as he utters her name firmly.  

“River...”

She tries her best not to let him see how she winces when he finally acknowledges her, and she sees just how dark and full of pain and sorrow his eyes really are. Though, something must give her away, because he pauses and his gaze softens ever so slightly before he continues.

“They were your parents,” She fiddles with the scanner again and ignores him, “Sorry. I didn’t even think.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She retorts sharply, hoping he hadn’t noticed how her voice wavered.

“Of course it matters.”

River shakes her head and goes back to the controls in front of her as a distraction, but the Doctor doesn’t give up, as he hauls himself to his feet and advances slowly. She tries to edge away; busying herself with piloting the TARDIS, despite the fact she’s already flying herself.

The Doctor stands close to her and silently lays his hand over one of hers that’s resting on one of the leavers, to still her carefully. She sighs, closing her eyes and feeling defeated, as he takes both her hands in his and turns her round to face him.

She daren’t look at him.

She knows he’ll see right through her.

He doesn’t say anything, but simply traces his thumb over the bones in her wrist, and when she lets her eyes snap open, she finds herself staring into his, and she can practically _see_ the guilt pulsing through him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off; shaking her head and silently telling him that it’s okay, that _she’s_ okay – that it had to be done and it wasn’t his fault. He huffs and lets his forehead drop against hers as one of his palms comes up to cradle her cheek, and she rests a hand on his shoulder and relaxes into his delicate touch.

“I’m so... _sorry_.” He mumbles, enveloping his arms around her and pulling her into a well-deserved hug.

And she knows, when he apologises, that he isn’t merely apologising and offering a condolence for the loss of her parents. He’s asking for her _forgiveness_. He wants her pardon; her mercy, for _everything_ \- everything he’s ever done to hurt her, everything she’s ever sacrificed for him, no matter what great loss it caused her, he’s begging for her to give him absolution.

“Me too,” She nods, feeling tears sting her eyes as she wraps her arms securely around his middle and falls into his embrace as she nuzzles her face into his tweed jacket and breaths him in. Because it’s all she can do to lessen his guilt, and their mutual, yet unspoken, pain.

She can give him her forgiveness, always and completely, just like he gave to her – but it would never diminish his regret as he’ll never accept it, no matter how desperate he is for it. He believes he doesn’t deserve it, and has no right to ask for it.

He does, of course. Everyone does. And she’d give it to him without a moment’s hesitation.   

They cling to each other, in a silent TARDIS drifting through space, as the moments tick by, until River pulls away and presses a soft kiss to his cheek as she takes his hand and slots her fingers in between his.

“Amy and Rory...” He says quietly, his throat dry and rasping, “They were your _parents_ , River, and, you didn’t even get to say goodbye to your own _father_...”  

“Shh,” She presses a finger to his lips and shakes her head as she stops him mid-sentence – partly because he’s working himself into a state, and partly because she just can’t bear to hear anymore. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

There’s silence for a moment, as River’s eyes flutter closed and then open again.

“No.” She finally agrees, “No, you’re right, it’s not. But there’s nothing you can do. Time _can_ be rewritten, Doctor, but not _all_ of it. You and I know that better than anybody. This is one of those fixed points where you simply cannot change _anything_. We both know the consequences and I’d rather not have to re-live this day four or five times over because you decided to mess with time. So _please_ promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”  

The way he visibly flinches shows he knows exactly what she’s talking about, but he nods and agrees, “I promise,” before he seals his pledge with a kiss to her hand. “It still _matters_ though, River.”    

She cuts him off again, reminding him sternly, “What matters is _this_ ; Doctor, don’t travel alone.”

“Travel with me, then?” He asks hopefully, and she sees he’s close to tears again.  

“Whenever and wherever you want,” She says with a wicked smile, and the Doctor all but beams at her “But not all the time - one psychopath per TARDIS, don’t you think?”

His face falls instantly, and she feels a pang of guilt and regret knot in her chest, but he knows its how things have to be and there’s no changing that.

She won’t leave him though, not today.   

He runs a hand through his hair and turns on his heels to return to his seat on the steps and he rests his head in his hands; looking weary.

She takes a deep breath and advances, “Okay so, this book I’ve got to write – _‘Melody Malone’_ – I presume I send it to Amy to get it published?”

“Yes, _yes_.” He affirms, with his hand to his forehead as he stares defeated and forlorn at the ground and avoids her gaze.

“I’ll tell her to write an afterword – for _you_.” She says with an unnoticeable smirk, as she plants herself on the step beside him and rests her head on his shoulder as he smiles weakly and wraps an arm around her shoulders to draw her close as she snuggles into his chest and tries her damndest not to cry, before saying softly, “Maybe you’ll listen to her.” 


End file.
